


Eyes

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-06-26
Updated: 2002-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-20 06:29:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11330388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived atThe Basement, which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onThe Basement's collection profile.





	Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Eyes

## Eyes

#### by JC Sun

Date: Friday, May 31, 2002 10:52 AM 

Title: Eyes  
Author: JC Sun  
E-mail:   
Website: http://joyce.jteers.net/  
Archive: Gossamer yes, others, ask.  
Rating: R for profanity, implied sexual acts, general subversiveness. Classification: VA, AU  
Keywords: slash, Mulder/Krycek 

SPOILER WARNING: AU, but references to Krycek events from Duane Barry/Ascension through to fifth season US. 

Summary: From Iowa to Russia by way of Fox Mulder. 

Disclaimer: Ain't mine. Don't want 'em. 

The AU starts out little and gets bigger and bigger - the most obvious change is, I think, that the order of two events in Scully's life is rearranged. 

Written in one weird flash, and. . . By the way, authors are like delicate houseplants. They wilt without water; Pressy watered me, so this fic is dedicated to her. 

Water me, baby. I wanna write again. 

* * *

When a parent makes a man out of a boy, he can just do a shitty job, so the boy never really gets to be a man or really much of anything except something with a trust fund and other baggage. On the other hand, boys trying to make themselves men just means trouble in drunken driving and playing chicken on a country road trouble. But when a man makes himself -- 

When a man makes himself, he's never quite the same again. Made men don't fall apart in the same way, though this is undeniably what Krycek does when he sees Mulder for the first time. He just comes unhinged. He can't do it; he can't kill Mulder, can't shoot him and leave him to die in a gutter and then lie in a report like he's supposed to. He can't eat, he can't sleep, he drops two pounds the first week he's with Mulder, four pounds the next. This means that in six weeks, he's going to turn into dust, and he's going going to vanish because things aren't working the way they're supposed to. 

It's because Mulder has his mother's eyes -- no, not *Mulder's* mother's eyes. Krycek's mother's eyes. He thought he left her in Iowa but here she is, back again, in the Beltway, in expensive suits and over a long, flexible face and lips that were born to fuck. 

It blows Krycek's mind. Wouldn't it blow yours? 

* * *

A ratty hotel in New Jersey. Yellow, low-wattage lights and an orange carpet with matching walls and two queen sized beds parallel to each other. Bathroom with grimy tile walls and god-knows-what-they've-done-in-there bathtub with a thick, gray ring about four inches down from the top. 

Alex is looking in the mirror. Hands on both sides of the sink, propping himself up to take a good hard look at himself and remind himself just what he is. Just how far he's come and what he's risking by not doing his duty. He's wearing his boxers. Barefoot even though the floor feels greasy under his toes, and his skin looks orange in the 40 Watt light. 

Mulder comes in. 

Alex thanks his lucky stars, the Virgin Mary, and his own damn good sense --not in that order -- that the gun he's supposed to kill Mulder with is securely tucked inside his double-locked suitcase. In a secret compartment. Dis-assembled. 

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he says to Mulder as Mulder saunters by, wearing nothing more than his own boxers. Strong shoulders, compact chest and then those eyes, usually brown this time of night, sometimes green if he's been drinking, but always his mother's eyes. Wide lips. 

The memory of Mulder, in a suit, hands on hips, standing on the edge of an autumn-yellow field. No umbrella, looking up into a gray sky. And Krycek is struck by a wave of lust, of admiration and memory, so strong that he staggers and blinks a little. 

He realizes that when he blinks that rapidly, he looks like he's fluttering his lashes. He's not, this time. 

Mulder looks at him flatly for a moment, then pulls his dick out of his pants and stands in front of the toilet. "What do I think I'm doing? I'm taking a piss." 

And he does. 

Krycek is a self-made man. More than made man: an assassin, and a pretty good one at that. He spends so much of his time proving to his superiors why he shouldn't kill Mulder, misinforming Mulder so Mulder fucks up and isn't a threat anymore that they say to him, "Fine, fine. Kill that partner of his, that Scully woman. That ought to be enough." 

And he does. He blows the side of her fucking head away. 

But it turns out that it's her sister. Some long-haired hippie at her house, and he's in pretty deep shit for a while, but then he arranges it so that Scully, the right one this time, gets abducted. Gets a time-bomb planted in her head that they'll trigger when she gets too busy again, and he gets away from Mulder for a while -- does some work in militias, drifts around. Gets to go out west for a little, in fact, and drives past his old home-town on the way out of Washington, but it doesn't get him away from Mulder permanently. 

Pretty soon, he's slammed up against the wall with Mulder punching him in the guts so hard that he can't see straight, and then Mulder's hand has him by the back of the skull while his hands are cuffed together. Mulder pushes him down to his knees in front of him and. . . 

Well, the whole time, you better believe that while he's getting achingly hard in his own pants, when he makes Mulder moan and cry out and go to pieces with nothing more than the touch of his wet mouth on that hot cock, all those months of Krycek's desire vibrating up his Mulder's spine like resonance in a white-hot tuning fork -- you better believe that Krycek is trying to get his mother's eyes out of his head. 

He doesn't though. He can't. Not while he's with Mulder. 

At least, not until Krycek gets his arm cut off. 

There aren't any famous one-armed assassins. There aren't very many famous assassins in the first place, not good ones, but there aren't many one-armed ones, and there certainly aren't any others that work for the people that Krycek works for. 

So he's no longer an assassin. And he kisses Mulder, too, one night. Just a brush, a peck, really, like Russian men do to each other, like his father used to greet his friends. 

Mulder sighs, leans forward and tries to put his arms around Krycek for another, but. . . 

Krycek, suddenly, doesn't see his mother's eyes anymore. 

end 

* * *

Feedback to   
http://joyce.jteers.net 

* * *

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to JC Sun 


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